THE ten days of mourning following the passing away of our Tata Madiba somehow shielded us from other brutal realities happening around us.
After viewing his body lying in state at the Union Buildings in Pretoria my husband, Gil, our son, Siseko and I proceeded to Qunu for the burial via Port Elizabeth. The drive from Port Elizabeth to Mthatha via Grahamstown, Fort Beaufort, Whittlesea, Queenstown, and Ngcobo reminded us of the cultural significance of this time of the year for the diverse Xhosa groups of the Eastern Cape.
The green landscape was somehow spoilt by what could be mistaken as squatter camps – the informal structures of abakhwetha (initiates) undergoing the customary rite of passage from boyhood to manhood.
As a resident of Gauteng surrounded by other ethnic groups (Ndebele, Pedi) who observe this custom in winter, I couldn’t avoid making comparisons. However, I faced a challenge being in the car with two Xhosa men sworn to secrecy about their experiences.
Every comment I made was followed by silence. I then decided to focus on the parallels between the summer and winter rituals and the impact on the environment. When that didn’t work, I shifted to what was disclosed by Tata Nelson Mandela in Chapter 4 (A Country Childhood) in his autobiography The Long Walk to Freedom.
“For the Xhosa people, circumcision represents the formal incorporation of males into society. It is not just a surgical procedure, but a lengthy and elaborate ritual in preparation for manhood…It was a sacred time, I felt happy and fulfilled taking part in my people’s customs and ready to make the transition from boy to manhood.”
This changed the mood; suddenly I had said the right thing. The pride was visible in their eyes. Most importantly I had connected with the men in my life.
At Madiba’s funeral, witnessing the fusion of cultures, the military procession and the dignity of the occasion, I thought again of Madiba’s reflection after being circumcised, ndiyindoda (I am a man).
As his coffin passed by where Gil and I were seated, I mumbled, UyiiNdoda yamaDoda (you’re a man amongst men).
Just four days later, on December 20, while on our way to attend imigidi (initiation graduation ceremonies) at Cofimvaba, Dutywa and East London, I read in the Daily Dispatch, “25 initiate deaths spark outcry”.
The ceremonies we attended were beautiful but I couldn’t stop thinking about what we as adults – both men and women – could do to stop the death of our children.
By Christmas Eve, the number had reached 30.
I remembered that women were never quiet when their daughters were dying. A local crisis became a global crisis that in November 2012 resulted in the United Nations member states approving the first-ever draft resolution aimed at ending the harmful practice of female genital mutilation.
The call by the UN Third Committee included the Assembly designating February 6 as the International Day of Zero Tolerance for Female Genital Mutilation.
Female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C) refers to several different harmful practices involving the cutting of a female’s genitals for non-medical reasons.
The UN World Health Organisation (WHO) estimates that 140 million girls and women worldwide currently live with the consequences of FGM/C. The resolution was the culmination of many years of mobilisation and protest by women (and men) worldwide.
As a participant at a few annual sessions of the UN Commission on the Status of Women (CSW) I appreciated the structured approach that developed over time in addressing FGM/C.
This included research (health, socio-cultural and religious) to guide interventions and monitoring, as well as awareness campaigns (from community level, to traditional/religious leaders and government).
The campaigns and research involved diverse dialogues on alternative ways of achieving the intended outcomes and targeted legislation. The message was so powerful that when my daughter reached the rites of passage stage I was clear on how to work with the family elders to conduct ukuthomba.
There are lessons to be learnt as we shift attention to boys’ initiation. The recurring death and mutilation of our sons during initiation has always been a cause for concern. But what I view as a tipping point now is the death in May of over thirty initiates in Mpumalanga and Limpopo provinces, and the recent deaths in the Eastern Cape. Of significance is the increasing public outcry culminating in the May 29 debate in parliament.
This was preceded by the reaction to comments by the Mpumalanga health MEC that tradition forbids her (as a woman) from getting involved in initiation matters.
The parliamentary debate, dominated by men, correctly highlighted the fact that initiation schools are not supposed to be death camps. They are supposed to prepare young men for manhood.
Health Minister Aaron Motsoaledi was more blunt with a new label – “culture-treneurship” – referring to those who “hijack certain Africa cultures to amass wealth … under the cloak of culture and tradition”.
Of importance is that he separated the medical aspects of initiation from the equally important issues of management and governance of the ritual for the intended outcome.
This was important for various reasons including going beyond the increasing promotion of circumcision for HIV prevention.
The time has come for a comprehensive review that acknowledges the diversity of practice and intents. This has to be characterised by inclusive dialogues cognisant of contemporary realities while drawing valuable lessons from ancient traditions.
However, such a process has to actively include women as the current reality pushes for more women’s involvement beyond the confines of patriarchy.
According to Census 2011, about a third of the 15 million households counted were “traditional” families with married parents and their children. The increase in the number of female-headed households and young mothers with out-of-wedlock births indicates a significant shift in the configuration of family going forward.
According to 2011 Census 38.8% of women aged between 15-24 years have given birth to at least one child. This is happening as the face and shape of extended families changes with increasing individualism that does not guarantee single mothers support as before. The absence of fathers in their sons’ lives also forces women to take more charge as they are empowered by the constitution and are increasingly financially independent.
The challenges for single and poor rural women without support are multifold. Their sons become impatient when resources do not permit initiation and they seek alternative ways (bazibe) without the approval and knowledge of the family, ending up in the wrong hands and coming home as corpses. The cases of child-headed and granny-headed families are even more complex.
Having experienced both township and village initiations as a young girl, and being a mother of an initiated man myself, I believe we have to contribute to doing it right to avoid turning it into a death sentence.
In my experiences both father and mother should be involved in preparing the boy mentally and physically. He needs to be healthy and appreciate the context of the journey to manhood.
The siblings, extended family, friends and community should be part of the send-off ceremony the night before initiation (umguyo or umgubho). It’s a party that shows support with lots of singing.
There should also be a discussion with women on the diet for the different phases of healing.
Through this the women can monitor the health status of initiates. What I enjoyed most, as a young girl visiting my mother’s home in emaHlubini, was being a messenger carrying food. While this is done by boys in other cultures, young girls (pre-teen) are brought in. The scenic walk on the Drakensberg mountains as a group of girls singing while carrying iibhekile (tin containers) is unforgettable. Close to ibhoma (the initiation house) each girl would sing and the initiates would recognise the voice or song and come and fetch the food or send someone for it.
The best time though, was umgidi. The women would come at dawn with sticks and hit a zinc panel (beth’ingqongqo) ululating in anticipation of the homecoming of their sons. Then the initiates would emerge, still in white blankets, accompanied by stick-fighting men singing Qula kwedini.
With AmaHlubi they would come home on horseback, each with his own story. The women are given a chance by most cultures to welcome the young men with gifts, showering them with words of wisdom.
Today, what was a joyous occasion has turned into a nightmare. Although we experience advancement in terms of women recognition, participation and empowerment in other spheres, here we are still excluded.
As a society we cannot ignore this crisis, and as women we cannot watch our sons die.
Faced with a degeneration of morals in our society and gender-based violence we have the opportunity to shape initiation schools for social transformation.
This requires visionary leadership, which views initiation as part of a young man’s evolutionary path to occupy his rightful place in society. This is critical in redressing the emasculation of African men by both colonial and apartheid regimes.
The solution thus requires all – black and white, academics, practitioners, traditional institutions, legislators and advocacy groups – to participate. When an initiate dies, we should know that we have all failed. Madiba showed us the way.
Dr Vuyo Mahlati is a gender activist and public policy specialist
Time to involve women
After viewing his body lying in state at the Union Buildings in Pretoria my husband, Gil, our son, Siseko and I proceeded to Qunu for the burial via Port Elizabeth. The drive from Port Elizabeth to Mthatha via Grahamstown, Fort Beaufort, Whittlesea, Queenstown, and Ngcobo reminded us of the cultural significance of this time of the year for the diverse Xhosa groups of the Eastern Cape.
The green landscape was somehow spoilt by what could be mistaken as squatter camps – the informal structures of abakhwetha (initiates) undergoing the customary rite of passage from boyhood to manhood.
As a resident of Gauteng surrounded by other ethnic groups (Ndebele, Pedi) who observe this custom in winter, I couldn’t avoid making comparisons. However, I faced a challenge being in the car with two Xhosa men sworn to secrecy about their experiences.
Every comment I made was followed by silence. I then decided to focus on the parallels between the summer and winter rituals and the impact on the environment. When that didn’t work, I shifted to what was disclosed by Tata Nelson Mandela in Chapter 4 (A Country Childhood) in his autobiography The Long Walk to Freedom.
“For the Xhosa people, circumcision represents the formal incorporation of males into society. It is not just a surgical procedure, but a lengthy and elaborate ritual in preparation for manhood…It was a sacred time, I felt happy and fulfilled taking part in my people’s customs and ready to make the transition from boy to manhood.”
This changed the mood; suddenly I had said the right thing. The pride was visible in their eyes. Most importantly I had connected with the men in my life.
At Madiba’s funeral, witnessing the fusion of cultures, the military procession and the dignity of the occasion, I thought again of Madiba’s reflection after being circumcised, ndiyindoda (I am a man).
As his coffin passed by where Gil and I were seated, I mumbled, UyiiNdoda yamaDoda (you’re a man amongst men).
Just four days later, on December 20, while on our way to attend imigidi (initiation graduation ceremonies) at Cofimvaba, Dutywa and East London, I read in the Daily Dispatch, “25 initiate deaths spark outcry”.
The ceremonies we attended were beautiful but I couldn’t stop thinking about what we as adults – both men and women – could do to stop the death of our children.
By Christmas Eve, the number had reached 30.
I remembered that women were never quiet when their daughters were dying. A local crisis became a global crisis that in November 2012 resulted in the United Nations member states approving the first-ever draft resolution aimed at ending the harmful practice of female genital mutilation.
The call by the UN Third Committee included the Assembly designating February 6 as the International Day of Zero Tolerance for Female Genital Mutilation.
Female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C) refers to several different harmful practices involving the cutting of a female’s genitals for non-medical reasons.
The UN World Health Organisation (WHO) estimates that 140 million girls and women worldwide currently live with the consequences of FGM/C. The resolution was the culmination of many years of mobilisation and protest by women (and men) worldwide.
As a participant at a few annual sessions of the UN Commission on the Status of Women (CSW) I appreciated the structured approach that developed over time in addressing FGM/C.
This included research (health, socio-cultural and religious) to guide interventions and monitoring, as well as awareness campaigns (from community level, to traditional/religious leaders and government).
The campaigns and research involved diverse dialogues on alternative ways of achieving the intended outcomes and targeted legislation. The message was so powerful that when my daughter reached the rites of passage stage I was clear on how to work with the family elders to conduct ukuthomba.
There are lessons to be learnt as we shift attention to boys’ initiation. The recurring death and mutilation of our sons during initiation has always been a cause for concern. But what I view as a tipping point now is the death in May of over thirty initiates in Mpumalanga and Limpopo provinces, and the recent deaths in the Eastern Cape. Of significance is the increasing public outcry culminating in the May 29 debate in parliament.
This was preceded by the reaction to comments by the Mpumalanga health MEC that tradition forbids her (as a woman) from getting involved in initiation matters.
The parliamentary debate, dominated by men, correctly highlighted the fact that initiation schools are not supposed to be death camps. They are supposed to prepare young men for manhood.
Health Minister Aaron Motsoaledi was more blunt with a new label – “culture-treneurship” – referring to those who “hijack certain Africa cultures to amass wealth … under the cloak of culture and tradition”.
Of importance is that he separated the medical aspects of initiation from the equally important issues of management and governance of the ritual for the intended outcome.
This was important for various reasons including going beyond the increasing promotion of circumcision for HIV prevention.
The time has come for a comprehensive review that acknowledges the diversity of practice and intents. This has to be characterised by inclusive dialogues cognisant of contemporary realities while drawing valuable lessons from ancient traditions.
However, such a process has to actively include women as the current reality pushes for more women’s involvement beyond the confines of patriarchy.
According to Census 2011, about a third of the 15 million households counted were “traditional” families with married parents and their children. The increase in the number of female-headed households and young mothers with out-of-wedlock births indicates a significant shift in the configuration of family going forward.
According to 2011 Census 38.8% of women aged between 15-24 years have given birth to at least one child. This is happening as the face and shape of extended families changes with increasing individualism that does not guarantee single mothers support as before. The absence of fathers in their sons’ lives also forces women to take more charge as they are empowered by the constitution and are increasingly financially independent.
The challenges for single and poor rural women without support are multifold. Their sons become impatient when resources do not permit initiation and they seek alternative ways (bazibe) without the approval and knowledge of the family, ending up in the wrong hands and coming home as corpses. The cases of child-headed and granny-headed families are even more complex.
Having experienced both township and village initiations as a young girl, and being a mother of an initiated man myself, I believe we have to contribute to doing it right to avoid turning it into a death sentence.
In my experiences both father and mother should be involved in preparing the boy mentally and physically. He needs to be healthy and appreciate the context of the journey to manhood.
The siblings, extended family, friends and community should be part of the send-off ceremony the night before initiation (umguyo or umgubho). It’s a party that shows support with lots of singing.
There should also be a discussion with women on the diet for the different phases of healing.
Through this the women can monitor the health status of initiates. What I enjoyed most, as a young girl visiting my mother’s home in emaHlubini, was being a messenger carrying food. While this is done by boys in other cultures, young girls (pre-teen) are brought in. The scenic walk on the Drakensberg mountains as a group of girls singing while carrying iibhekile (tin containers) is unforgettable. Close to ibhoma (the initiation house) each girl would sing and the initiates would recognise the voice or song and come and fetch the food or send someone for it.
The best time though, was umgidi. The women would come at dawn with sticks and hit a zinc panel (beth’ingqongqo) ululating in anticipation of the homecoming of their sons. Then the initiates would emerge, still in white blankets, accompanied by stick-fighting men singing Qula kwedini.
With AmaHlubi they would come home on horseback, each with his own story. The women are given a chance by most cultures to welcome the young men with gifts, showering them with words of wisdom.
Today, what was a joyous occasion has turned into a nightmare. Although we experience advancement in terms of women recognition, participation and empowerment in other spheres, here we are still excluded.
As a society we cannot ignore this crisis, and as women we cannot watch our sons die.
Faced with a degeneration of morals in our society and gender-based violence we have the opportunity to shape initiation schools for social transformation.
This requires visionary leadership, which views initiation as part of a young man’s evolutionary path to occupy his rightful place in society. This is critical in redressing the emasculation of African men by both colonial and apartheid regimes.
The solution thus requires all – black and white, academics, practitioners, traditional institutions, legislators and advocacy groups – to participate. When an initiate dies, we should know that we have all failed. Madiba showed us the way.
Dr Vuyo Mahlati is a gender activist and public policy specialist
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